Thursday, July 4th 2002 - Mosquito Grilled
The Fourth of July is not a good day to go bed early. I've been sick all day, a head cold with body aches that makes me a general kind of miserable. I took decongestants and tylenol and by now I'm finally feeling better, but of course, now I should go to bed and rest up for tomorrow, when I have to help my coworkers pack up the incredibly dusty, dirty place where we used to work so it can be moved over the weekend to our new, spiffy, clean office. If I feel sick again tomorrow it will be a kind of hell. Anyway. Most of this entry will end up being about physical discomfort, which is fitting since I've been suffering from it so much lately. Sunday night was unusually warm, and Tim and I had to sleep with the windows open. About 3:30 in the morning I woke up with mosquitos whining in my ears and about a dozen bites itching all over my body. ARGH! After a fruitless search for OFF, I logged on to look up which herbs are supposed to repell the little suckers. I brewed up a concoction of Lemon Balm and Rosemary (reminding me of my Martin Place days when I was always brewing up some herbal remedy or another), cooled it down and smeared over my body in the kitchen. Of course, I forgot to strain it, so I was covered in bits of herbs, but I was too tired and annoyed to care. It worked; the mosquitos quit biting me and ate Tim instead (which drove him out to the couch). So, Monday night we bought mosquito netting. I've wanted this for years - I think it looks so cool - but I never thought I'd buy it to keep 'skeeters away in an arid climate. It's one of the things that's been driving me nuts about California -- no screens in the windows. Usually, it doesn't matter, but I think one of our idiot neighbors has standing water near our windows or something. (Another thing about CA houses -- no insulation.) Anyway, now we have to pull back the netting to climb in and out of bed, but it's lovely, like a fairy bower, and the skeeters don't bite us anymore. Tim's dubbed it the "sex pavillion" which makes me giggle. I've been getting annoyed with the city lately, and I think this is largely due to working in the Mission in the summer. In the winter, the rains keep things somewhat clean, but in the summer, when it doesn't rain, the stench is overwhelming. The sour smells of urine, garbage, crack and general human decay (not to mention pollution) are what I get to breathe in every day on my walk to work. Yes, we're moving, but only several blocks down the very same street. There are less crackheads down that way, so hopefully it will be better, but I'm not holding my breath (well, I am, but not for a change you see). I dunno, it just all makes me yearn for somewhere green, with clean air that you can take in with big lungfuls. My body hurts, and while that's not necessarilly the city's fault, some of it is. I mean, I never had allergies in Indiana, and here they make it hard to breathe even when I *am* somewhere green(ish). And walking on all that asphalt can't be the best for my sore knees and ankles. Ah, I'm just bitching. I'm in pain, I have lots of doctor's appointments coming up for various ills over the next few months, and I'm feeling old before my time, you know? I'm not yet thirty, dammit. I shouldn't feel so damn gimpy. The other night, Tim and I went to see Neil Gaiman read his new YA novel, Coraline. He's a wonderful reader, and it was incredibly entertaining (usually I zone out a bit when I'm read to, but not with Neil). However, the church pews were hard, and the reading was long. Butt-numbingly long. I *hurt* the next day from sitting there for so long. Argh. Still, it's nice to live in such a place where we can attend such once-in-a-lifetime events. Score one for California there. Ok, I'm going to attempt a lighter mood for the remainder of this entry. So, the writing rejections have been pouring in lately. My theory is that everyone wanted to get those SASEs in the mail before they had to add $0.03 stamps to each and every one of them. My favorite rejection, the one that made me so happy I keep talking about it days later, was from Ellen Datlow over at Sci Fiction. Forgive me for quoting the whole thing here, but it really does tickle me so: "Dear Ms. Shaw: Thanks for sending me "Restoration" for SCI FICTION. It's a power story and I like it but I'm afraid not enough to buy for the site. Sorry. Hope to see more from you in the future. Sincerely, Ellen Datlow" This is the first personal rejection I've gotten from Ellen, and it thrills me. I dunno, I'm just trying to be realistic about the writing world, and take my kicks and encouragements where I can find them. The last three stories I've written have received more personal rejections from major magazines (ones that usually send form rejections) than I've gotten before, and I take that as a good sign. I like external signs that I'm improving. It's satisfying. Tim's been a doll lately. Very sweet and loving and caring, despite my grumpiness over my various ills. It's much easier to deal with life's little bumps with a good boyfriend at my side. Thank goodness for him. I think that's it for now. Hope you all had a good holiday.	Exercise Log: Some. Not enough (it hurts). Bah. Don't want to talk about it. Writing log: Rejections aplenty. Sent everything out again already. Currently 12 stories in circulation. Fingers crossed. 2 new stories needing revisions and polish before they go out. 1 new story in need of an ending. Current Publications: The Ever Book Shoppe (a collaboration with Tim Pratt in Slow Trains Literary Journal In the Shade of You nominated in the long poem category for the Rhysling and will be reprinted in the 2002 Rhysling Anthology! "How to Suck" reprinted in From Porn to Poetry: Clean Sheets Celebrates the Erotic Mind I've been reading: Currently Reading: Child Across the Sky by Jonathan Carroll Reading the Vampire Slayer: An Unofficial Critical Companion to Buffy and Angel edited by Roz Kaveney Finished recently: Galveston by Sean Stewart
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